


Sunset Eyes Are Smiling

by istie



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Memory, Romance, Snipers, loyalty mission blues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istie/pseuds/istie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane watches Shepard get between Garrus and Sidonis. Being a drell, he sees parallels no one else does. And so he tells Garrus what he can't possibly know ... Rated K . Mid-ME2. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunset Eyes Are Smiling

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following prompt:
> 
> "During Garrus' loyalty mission Thane watches Shepard stand in front of Garrus' shot. This reminds him of Irikah and how she did the same. Later, Thane talks to Garrus in the main battery. Telling him that finding such a tenacious protector as Shepard is rare and not to waste the time he has with her. "

I stand in the darkest corner with the best view.  Shepard and Vakarian do not know I have followed them, having left our rented skycar not long after their small … altercation.

I see Shepard striding through the plaza.  I know, of course, where Vakarian is perched: high above, far back.  A good choice on his part: he will have a clear shot and ample time to leave, even counting the hike back to the skycar several catwalks away. 

There is a turian sitting on a bench in the center of the plaza.  He has steely gray plates and very pale clan markings; his outfit is perhaps a shade too garish for his pale demeanour.  He is tired, I can see it from here: his hands hang limply in his lap and his mandibles are slack.  His eyes are closed.

The receiver in my ear buzzes as Vakarian’s voice comes through.  They of course do not know that I can hear them, but that is irrelevant.

“That’s him,” he says.

Shepard’s voice then, though I can barely see her lips move.  “You sure?”

“Positive.”  The note of rancour in the turian sniper’s voice would turn the stomach of a lesser man.

“Let me do the talking.”

“Shepard…”  Now, insistence. 

“Garrus.”  Firm command.

“Fine.  But if I tell you to move…”

The human woman does not reply to the sniper, instead speaking to the turian on the bench.  “Lantar Sidonis?”

The brightly-clad turian leaps to his feet, though he slows it enough that it seems graceful to the untrained eye.  He is nervous.  “Don’t say that name here.”

Shepard tilts her head slightly, and there is a momentary pause.  “I’m a friend of Garrus Vakarian.”

Wiry muscles tense in the turian’s legs and shoulders, and he turns to leave.  Shepard catches his shoulder and brings him back.

“I am the only thing standing between you and a bullet through the brain.”

“Damn it, Shepard…!”  I can hear Vakarian’s breath hissing through his mandibles.

Shepard happens to glance up, and I catch a glimpse of her bright eyes.

The world slips sideways, and I have just enough time to duck into the alley I am standing in before solipsism overtakes my senses.

\---

I return to the present mere seconds later, the memory of Irikah’s orange eyes fading from my sight.  I slip back into the opening of the alleyway only to be brushed past by the steel-gray turian, obviously in a hurry to be elsewhere.  I look up to the plaza and see Shepard rounding the corner to return to the skycar; I lift my eyes to the catwalks and see Vakarian sitting in shadow as if frozen.

It is clear what has has happened.  I leap and grab a fire escape, pulling myself up into the second layer of the city, making my own way back to our transportation.

\---

Shepard and Vakarian exchanged words before getting into the vehicle, but now, on the return trip to the Normandy’s docking station, they sit in silence.  Vakarian is as a stone, driving through the purple-tinged skies of the Citadel while Shepard stares out the window, her helmet in her lap, her visor gleaming orange to Vakarian’s blue.

Orange.

Blue.

We dock.

Shepard’s fingers brush over the back of Vakarian’s hand as she moves to exit the skycar.  It is made to look like an accidental motion, but of course I see the intent behind it.  Vakarian remains frozen for several seconds, then touches his hand where she had touched him.

I slip out of the car and shoulder the gear bag we had brought with us.  Shepard is standing outside the car, her left hand on top of the open door, her gaze in the distant horizon.  Vakarian remains inside the vehicle, not yet having opened his door.

I touch Shepard’s shoulder, just barely.  She looks at me, and the pain in her eyes is evident.

I motion with my head towards the Normandy, and walk away.  She closes the car door and follows.  I speak when we are out of earshot of even the best turian hearing, given the background noise of the late-night Citadel. 

“Why, _siha_?”

She turns her head ever-so-slightly, her gaze not breaking with mine.  “What, Thane?”

“You stood in front of Vakarian’s shot.”

She paused.  She blinked slowly; I mirrored her.  Finally she spoke.

“I was protecting him.”

I raise my eyebrow the tiniest fraction.  She tilts her head down in acquiescence.

She takes the bag from me and enters the airlock.  It seals behind her.  I turn, and wait.

It is not long before I see Vakarian exit the car in the distance, his rifle slung over his shoulder.  He walks towards the ship with his usual purposeful gait, but slows and halts when he sees me.

“I must speak with you."

He seems to gain an inch in height.  It matters not.  I meet his eyes anyway.

“Now’s really not a good time, Thane.”

I nod slightly.  “Very well.  I will speak with you later tonight then.”  I do not leave him room to respond; instead, I walk up to the airlock, triggering another decontamination cycle.  Vakarian joins me in silence, fully aware, as I am, that if he did not, he would have had to wait another five minutes.  And waiting, I suspect, is not his preferred pastime at the moment.

I leave him to his thoughts.

\---

I’m pacing the battery when the doors slide open.  Thane.  Of course.  He’d said he’d be by later.  I nod at him tersely and he steps into an at-ease position just inside the doors as they slide shut.

“What is it you need to tell me, Thane?” I ask. “I’m… really not having the best of evenings, but if you say this can’t wait, then I guess it can’t wait.”

To his credit, the assassin doesn’t flinch.  I wasn’t exactly using the kindest of tones.  “You may believe me when I say I entirely understand your state of mind – though I suspect you would rather not believe that at all.”

I exhale through my mandibles in a sound of light exasperation.  He continues.

“Furthermore, and more importantly, I believe it is my responsibility to inform you of a certain facet of tonight’s situation which in all likelihood you have missed, given your current –and entirely rational – state of mind.”

I exhale again, slightly more exasperated.  If I’d wanted riddles, I would have talked to Mordin.  His eyebrows raise by a millimetre, and he continues, unhurried.

“Garrus, there was once a woman who stood in the way of my perfect shot, as well.”

I remain silent.  He waits a moment, then resumes.

“She stood in front of my gun because to her it was inconceivable that any man should wish to take a life.”

Fuck.  Seriously?  I’m getting a lecture in ethics from the _assassin_?  Who apparently snuck off to spy on me?  Spirits preserve me …

“In the eyes I saw through my scope I saw the shadow of a _siha_ , a warrior angel—a protector.  A person who would go to any lengths to protect anyone.”

And now he’s going to tell me that my quest for vengeance was wrong, that we should be more upstanding citizens than that, the self-righteous bastard …

“Shepard is not the shadow of a _siha_.  The good commander, I believe, _is_ a _siha_.  And I know this, Garrus Vakarian, because she was not angry with you.  She did not judge you for wanting to kill Lantar Sidonis.  She was not solely protecting the man in your sights—she was also protecting you.”

I can feel my mandibles fall slack.  Spirits above.

“The woman who fights beside you, who trusts you at her back—and who, unless I am gravely mistaken, cares for you deeply—is as great and as rare a protector as the galaxy could ever hope to wish for.  And, Garrus, she has chosen you.  Do not take this lightly.  Do not dream of wasting the time you may or may not have at her side.  If she comes to you, go to her.  And if she does not—”  Is that a twinkle in his eye?  “Then go to her anyway.”

He leaves the battery and the doors slide shut behind his silent step. 

Spirits above.

Spirits _above_.

\---

I’m leaning against my desk, scrolling through my mail, when I hear the door chime.

“Enter.”

I hear the swish of the doors opening, and then a firm step.  Garrus.  I turn.

“What can I do for you, Garrus?”

He doesn’t respond right away.  Not entirely without precedent, but not usual.  I wait.  He doesn’t disappoint.

“Shepard, I… I just wanted to say…”  He stops and shakes his head.  “I just wanted to thank you.  I was angry when we left the Citadel, and I didn’t really understand why you’d stopped me.  I mean, what I said about black and white… I think I get it now, I really do.  It’s not just the people who… the people who… it’s not just the people like Sidonis that need to be protected.”

My heart’s pounding and I don’t even know why.

“So…”  He pauses.  “So I guess… thanks, Shepard.  Thanks for protecting me when I… when I couldn’t protect myself.”

My tongue is like gravel in my mouth.  The silence seems to last an eternity.

“I … You’re welcome, Garrus.  I’m always here for you.  Whatever you need.”  I smile.

He smiles too.

Oh.

“Thanks, Shepard.  I’ll … let you get back to work.”

“Sure.”

I nod, and he leaves, and the doors slide shut, and I slowly sit back on my desk, staring at the fish tank.


End file.
